Leaving rainy Hue I agonised over a choice of two routes, only to end up doing both and finally conquering the famous Hai Van pass.
Hue had been disappointing and yet magical all at the same time.
Planning this tour in my head I’d imagined a golden, idealised version of the ancient imperial city, fuelled by visual storyteller Lan Hue and her romantic images of the perfume river and lush gardens.
In reality, Hue was saturated with rain and still recovering from serious flooding which had rendered most inner streets underwater.
My visions of cruising lazily around timeless back raods dashed, I instead honed in on a tiny microcosm of the city – the block where I was staying. There on that smaller scale I found a different, more modest Hue, one of truly delicious food and genuinely warm, caring people.
Here is Vietnam’s rainiest city nobody complained about the wet, they made it work.
Riding the river road
Travelling between Hue in the centre of Vietnam I had decided to reluctantly forgo the famous Hai Van Pass try out a recently opened new road cutting through a remote river valley behind jungle-y mountains.
It sounded spectacular so I decided to give it a go, inspired by another inspirational blog, the Vietnam Coracle. Unfortunately, at the time of writing (October 2022) local authorities had other ideas.
Reaching the turn off required a decent stretch of riding on Highway One, bearable due to a nice wide shoulder and also a chance encounter with Myongku Kang, a Korean Man WALKING 11,000 km for peae. Incredible.
My ‘experiment’ with the River Road started really well. There was barely any traffic, a huge wide shoulder, and sweeping, dramatic views. The scenery got better and better as the kilometres passed and the raod started following a frothing turquoise river.
Then came the tunnel.
It was guarded by three officials plus CCTV cameras and there was absolutely no way they were going to let me through. No walking the bike along the walkway, nor getting a sneaky lift in their utility vehicle.
I was sternly directed back to an unfinished alternative road over the pass which would have involved scrambling up a steep, muddy, embankment.
Deciding to try hitch hiking for a while first, I stood 50 metres back from the tunnel and waved down the first van I saw.
Which stopped.
Amazingly, the driver was also a cyclist, named Mr Phuong and seemed absolutely delighted to drive me not just through the tunnel but wherever I wanted.
Not keen to stay on the River Road and upset the authorities any further I decided to ride with Phuong all the way through to Danang, where there was still time to make a dash for the Hai Van Pass.
Mr Phuong seemed absolutely delighted – and not inconvenienced in the slightest – to drive me not only through the tunnel but to a junction outside town.
Cycling the Hai Van pass solo, from Kim Lien, Da Nang
Hastily arranging a guesthouse, I threw my bags in the room inside and set out for a ride up the Hai Van pass.
I reached the first viewpoint to be greeted with a simply stunning view, a bright little window amidst the rainy season gloom.
It was a glorious clear and golden Sunday afternoon and groups of young people were cruising about and enjoying themselves, though signs warned of the fog that no doubt shrouded this mountain for much of the year.
The gradient was challenging but not overwhelming as the rad snaked around the hillside. Cafes were stationed at the best viewpoints with one even tucked against a waterfall.
There were even dozens of cyclists, local enthusiasts decked out with lycra and road bikes.
Even though I only did a ‘there and back’ version of the Hai Van pass I didn’t feel like I’d missed out.
After a tough steep section right before the summit, it felt good to make it – especially as I’d cycled around 100km that day.
Looking down the other side, back towards Hue, all I could see was fog and mist. Such is the crazy mish mash of microclimates in this land of mountains, jungles and sea, that two halves of Vietnam’s most famous road had completely different weathers all in the one day.
The next day I dropped in on my new friend, who happens to run a shop with his wife selling beautiful hand-crafted lanterns.
He took me for coffee next door, at a café which turned out to be a cyclist hangout.
I’ll always be grateful to Mr Phuong for helping me out of a pickle and to the universe for putting on an incredible cycle touring day.
